Spend the afternoon with Jenna. Time permitting, stop by Aubrey and King’s office.

Nice Touch

“So, Jenna. Join me.” You gesture to the seat Phil vacated a little while earlier, across the table from you.

Your comely blonde assistant pivots from her desk chair, crossing her legs in the nick of time to avoid an incident. “Me?”

“No, the other Jenna. Of course you.” You gesture again.

“Oh.” She rises, swaying across the room, passing so close to you that her skirt brushes the hair on your arm. “Am I in trouble or something, Mr. Saxon?”

“I told you, call me Will. And I’m pretty sure you are the trouble.”

Her smile threatens, but doesn’t enforce itself. There’s a nervousness there still. It’s not easy to take stock it of it though, the way her breasts rest atop the table as if the height of both it and the chair were made to shelf those things. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Relax, Jenna. We’re both in this weird situation, right? We meet randomly, I flirted a little, you… well, you flirted a lot. Then we don’t see each other for weeks.” The lengths you went to trying to find her can be omitted for dignity. “I was worried our paths might not cross again, but hey. Here we are, in it together.”

“So we are.” There’s that smile, though you can admit it looks perfunctory.

“So… tell me about yourself.”

“About me? Oh, there’s not much to tell. What would you like to know, sir?”

You want to repeat the request for first name basis, but there’s something a little bit hot about being a sir. You let it slide, for now. “Maybe start with the basics. Where are you from? How long have you worked here? Your last name, even.”

“I’m a local girl, from the area. Today is my first day, and my name is Garnet.”

“That’s a pretty name. Jenna Garnet. I like it. Though what do you mean, today is your first day? We met weeks ago, right upstairs.”

She shakes her head. “I was only a temp then. I only became full-time effective this morning.”

A temp. You want to groan at your oversight. Of course she was. No wonder nobody you talked to knew her, why she wasn’t mentioned anywhere official. Probably made all the more sense that she was blowing Nolan King, taking advantage of girls eager to earn a position. Maybe why she flashed you, too, mistaking you for a friend of the CEO. She must have sucked that royal dick but good, too, because here she was.

It didn’t explain why she had her own code to 7, but you’ve barked up that tree enough lately. The whole impetus for your curiosity was Jenna, and now here she was.

“I see. Aubrey told me you were available when she mentioned I’d need an assistant, but she didn’t tell me you were a new hire. What were you doing here as a temp?”

“Eh, just some bureaucratic nonsense. Nothing as exciting as working with you, sir.”

“Oh yeah, nothing says excitement like IT security. Your first foray in the field, I take it.”

Jenna shrugs. “I happen to think that a job is what you make it. I prefer to think of what we do as exciting.”

“I’ll do my best to keep it lively. Honestly, I barely even know what’s expected of us yet. I need to see if I can talk to Aubrey and Nolan sometime soon. Maybe later today.”

“I thought that man, Phil, explained the situation to you?”

“It’s good to hear from the rank and file, the people doing the work, what they’re doing, but as to what needs doing, it’s a good idea to take your cues from the people who cut the checks.”

“That’s smart.” She looks immediately back down to the table bashfully. For having made such a small suggestion?

“We were talking about you, though.”

“Oh.” She adjusts her hands in her lap, breasts bouncing on the tabletop. “What else would you like to know?”

“You really don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?”

“I don’t like to waste my boss’s time on things that aren’t very interesting is all.”

You don’t buy it, but either way, no sense making her uncomfortable. Taciturn as she is, it’s hard to imagine this woman casually flashing you in an elevator. “Fair enough. So should we maybe talk about workplace expectations? If we’re going to be sharing this tiny little office–”

“It feels pretty big…”

“I was… Never mind. Anyway, I thought it might be good for us to have some idea what we should expect. Did they give you any sort of heads up? Training? A manual?”

“My role is very clear to me, sir. Don’t you worry.”

You give her a chuckle. “I’m glad it’s clear to one of us. What did the orientation cover? Answering the phone, filing, listening to me grumble under my breath?”

She locks eyes with you, the first time she’s maintained eye contact for more than a couple seconds at a time. “I’m to do whatever my boss needs me to do.”

The answer is simplicity itself. What’s implied in those eyes, though… You’re only glad she doesn’t hear your cock slamming into the underside of the table. She can’t mean that, obviously.

Can she?

You’re tempted to take the bait, see what exactly this gorgeous creature will let you get away with. It would be utterly inappropriate, though, and an invitation for a sexual harassment lawsuit.

Still…

It couldn’t hurt to take a nibble.

“And suppose I need a back rub?” You laugh to make sure she knows you’re joking. Or at least so you’ll have plausible deniability if she “misconstrues.” You are joking though. Totally. More or less.

Jenna’s response, however, is entirely serious. “Then I’ll give my boss a back rub.” She rises to her feet in an instant and makes right for you.

“Huh? Oh, no, I was only… only… I wasn’t… ungh…” Your protests die in your shoulders as her fingers sink in without hesitation. Did you protest? It’s hard to imagine fighting this.

There’s an casualness to it, yet an eagerness at the same time. As if it were nothing out of the ordinary, and she’d been waiting for you to ask. Instead of her listlessness through the morning, there’s suddenly an intensity to her every move. This isn’t some grudging back rub from a tired girlfriend humoring you about your long day. This is a woman dedicated to finding your tension, and squeezing it right out of you.

“You’re too… too…” Kind, you think you were going to say. There’s so many superlatives fighting for the spot, though. Forward. Generous. Sexy. “Damn good at this,” you finish.

“I’ve only just begun, sir.” She sounds almost affronted that you would concede her greatness so easily. “Wait for me to get going.”

As time rolls by, you begin to see why. You’re not entirely sure when she went under your shirt, or how a woman so petite could possess thumbs capable of such intense kneading. “You’re sure you weren’t a masseuse in a past life?”

Her reply is a breathy whisper, right in your ear. “Maybe I’m a masseuse in this life, sir.”

You’re slumped over facedown on the table, groaning at yet another lump she’s managed to discover and work out, when you realize the two of you aren’t alone. “Um, Mr. Saxon?” asks an unfamiliar voice.

You’re upright in a flash, so fast that you probably have scratch marks on your back from where Jenna’s nails were too slow to withdraw. Before you is a man you remember meeting with a few times during your security audits. His name escapes you. “Uh…” you manage.

“Hauser,” he supplies, as if that were the cause for your tongue-tied state.

Meanwhile, Jenna hasn’t stopped. Oh, she’s upright again, pressing softly on your shoulders, with those amazing tits of hers just brushing the back of your head. Not distracting at all.

“Right. Hauser. Um, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Didn’t mean to interrupt…” It sounds like he might characterize what it was he was interrupting, but he wisely ends the sentence there. “I only wanted to introduce myself to the new boss man, see if maybe me and some of the boys could take you out to lunch someday soon. Get to know each other and all.”

Jenna moves to your neck, and for a moment your eyes sink shut in ecstasy. Your head sinks back, landing right in her cleavage, but she doesn’t object at all. Only for a moment, though. “Sounds great, Houseman. Jenna will get in touch with you in a bit, set something up.”

He looks up to the busty blonde who’s now all but cradling your head between her tits. His expression is half leer, half awe, and half lost in a fantasy all his own. “It’s Hauser, actually. And that sounds great. I’ll, ah, show myself out. You two have fun.”

“Nice to meet you,” you mumble far too softly for him to hear as he exits. Jenna never paused during his brief intrusion. She now moves on to your front. She starts with the neck, then proceeds up to your face, grazing her fingertips over your cheeks, your forehead, and then sinking into your hair to tease at your scalp. Eventually she moves back down to your chest and rubs your pecs. Those tits of hers are earmuffs at this point.

“Uh, should you, ah, be…” You manage as you find her hands inside your shirt again, this time in front. You’re reasonably sure an assistant should have little to no contact with her boss’s nipples. Hard to remember why, though.

“Right, you said you needed a back rub. Sorry, sir. I guess I got carried away.”

Before she can return to her earlier labors, you scoot your chair forward and swivel to look up at her. In the process, your eyes take in the wall clock. Holy crap, has it been two hours?! The woman must have hands of steel to keep it up that long! Then again, you suppose the same could be said for your cock.

“That’s OK, Jenna. That was amazing. Really. You didn’t have to do that. I mean, I appreciate it, really. I just don’t want you to think that’s, you know, the job. Or whatever.”

Her nipples are tenting out her top visibly. There’s obviously a bra under there; how turned on is this woman? “The job is to do what my boss needs. If that’s what you need, I’m happy to do it, sir.”

“I’m not sure anyone ever needs a back rub.” You stand up and get to work tucking your shirt back in.

“Want, need…” Jenna shrugs. “When it comes to my boss, I’m versatile.”

You could fuck her right now, you suspect. It’s practically an invitation.

“Maybe I should head upstairs and touch base with Aubrey.”

“Of course. I’ll keep myself busy.” If she minds your implied rejection, she gives no sign of it as she takes her spot at her desk. She scratches irritably at the side of her head, inadvertently calling attention to the pencil tucked behind her ear. You hadn’t noticed it before. A nice touch.

There’s a restroom not far from your office, where you splash some cold water on your face until your erection finally agrees to bide its time. Aubrey’s as likely to want to do anything with it as you are to give the old bird the go ahead to do so. You suppose for a moment you might be meeting with Nolan King, finally, but everything you’ve seen so far suggests he’s letting his first mate steer the ship most of the time. Just as well. A few minutes across from Aubrey Merriman is exactly what you need to calm you down before you blow everything.

“Jenna Garnet, Jenna Garnet…” Nolan taps his chin pensively. “Oh, is she that little brunette chick with the huge tits? Kinda slutty-looking, little **** to make a good impression?”

“Blonde. Could be a dye job, I suppose. And I wouldn’t call her look ‘slutty,’ exactly…”

He goes on anyway. “Right, right. Yeah, I remember her, I think. Boy, you are in some luck, friendo. That girl can suck like that bunny from the commercials.”

You wrack your brain, but come up empty. “There’s a commercial about a bunny that gives good head?”

He only guffaws and claps you hard on the arm. “Naw, man. You know, the little pink guy? ‘Keeps going, and going…’ Damn, I almost envy you.” Implicit in his lack of envy is that he already considers himself your better, in the field of getting his dick sucked and likely so many others. “Well have fun with her. Not too much fun, ya know. For the record and all. Don’t want HR up in here for another seminar, eh?”

“No, I suppose we don’t.”

“Unless it’s that spicy little Mexican gal they sent up that one time, and that other time. What was her name, Carmen? Luanda? Something Mexicany.”

You remember meeting a gorgeous Latina during your own brief orientation when you took the consulting gig. Her name was Mary. “Ha. Right. Anyway, I was hoping you could talk to me about what we’re looking to get done in my department? I’ve already spoken to some of the staff, but since nobody left me a manual” (or even a freaking post-it note) “I don’t have a lot to go on. Do we have any kind of SWOT analysis or anything I can refer to? Projects going on?”

“Oh we got projects, brother. Yes we do.” His smile is so white it almost brightens up his office. “But don’t you worry about any of that. Just make sure we don’t get hacked or whatever, and beyond that, take it easy. Stand at the ready and all, ya know? Like a security guard, but for email.”

Luckily he gets up then to fetch the rest of his pineapple smoothie from the blender then so he doesn’t see you tense up at his glib dismissal of your field. “Sure, that’s a given. I only meant that, you know, maybe there’s more I need to know, so I can make sure nobody else finds out…?”

He takes a long swig, then dabs at his mouth with a handkerchief from his pocket. “Oh, I see what you’re driving at. You’re talking about 7, right? Aubrey said you were poking around down there.”

“Not 7 specifically, but sure. See, what I do, it’s not quite security guard stuff. A security guard can stand in front of a locked door and make sure nobody goes in. But for what I do…” You see his eyes already starting to wander and stop yourself shy of any jargon. “See, I need to know where all the doors are, who has the keys, make sure the locks get changed when they should, maybe build a moat and stock it with some hungry alligators. If that makes sense?”

The metaphorical approach maintains his attention, it seems. “Ha! Gators. I love it. I used to have a place down in Tampa, but I couldn’t make myself go down there any more. Once you’ve spent some time in the southwest, you really vibe the difference between dry heat and that sludge you have to breathe down by the gulf.”

“Yeah, totally. I’ve, ah, never been. But you take my point, right? I can’t really do my job if you don’t–”

“I get it, I get it, chill already,” Nolan grumps. “Dang, no wonder you caught Aubrey’s eye, Mr. Busybody. Unless you’ve been shtupping my secretary, eh?” Like that, his laugh is back. It’s annoyingly infectious without the grace of being contagious.

“Um, no. Pretty sure I’m not her type.”

“Shit, you’re not a bad-looking cat, brother. Don’t sell yourself short. Anyway, if you want the detes on 7, here’s what you need to know.” He leans across his desk and crooks a finger for you to do the same. “What I’m about to say is confidential, you understand?”

“Of course. Maintaining your secrets is my business, Nolan.” Nolan, as he insisted you not call him Mr. King. Was this how it had felt for Jenna?

“Atta boy. So I know you know we’re in the software business. Making 20th century homes into 21st century palaces. Not our actual slogan – marketing shot me down on that one. Wouldn’t be bad, though, right?”

Good on you, Amy. “It’s catchy.”

“OK. So you’ve seen our product line. Smart fridges, smart ovens, smart lamps, and then there’s the few military projects on the side–”

“We have military projects?”

He ignores you. “I also had the bright idea that maybe we could cut out the middle man, you know? Maybe the home doesn’t need to be so goddamn smart if we can make the homeowner a little smarter. Follow me?”

“I’m… not sure I do.”

“OK, so check this. You need to know what time it is. What do you do?”

“I check my phone.”

“Course you do. How about the weather?”

“On my phone.”

“Yep. Set a notification so you don’t forget to shop for mama’s birthday again?”

“Got it. Phone. But…” You gesture for him to get to the point. CEO or no, you have your limits.

“But, what if you didn’t need to remember where you’d stuck your phone? Oh fudge, it’s all the way upstairs. Dangit, battery’s low. Or hey, it’s right there in my pocket with all the battery life in the world! But crap on a cracker, I can’t just take it out during a meeting, or while I’m driving, or while I’m getting my knob polished.”

“So 7 is where you’re developing tech to remind you about your mother’s birthday present while you’re getting a blowjob?”

He barks out a belly laugh at that. “You got style, Bill. Make me laugh. But you’re not far off. Once upon a time, if somebody said they were going to teach a monkey sign language they’d be laughed out of the room. Then someone did it, and that clever boy laughed their way to the bank.”

“I’m not sure there’s actually money in… never mind. You were saying.”

“Except instead of working on a smarter monkey, we’re designing a smarter person.” He splays out his hands with a certain bravado, though it’s apparent there’s some lingering resentment at having his spiel interruption so close to the end.

“Wait, but… I don’t get it. Like, is it some kind of educational software?”

“You could call it that.” His grin is more lopsided than ever.

“I’m still not sure I’m getting it.”

“Look, there’s only so much we share with the general public.”

“I’m your director of IT security, not the general public!” you protest.

“I thought you were associate to the director? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You already know more than you need to. Whatever assumptions you make about all that word salad, you can appreciate it’s probably pretty weird and certainly best nobody knows too much outside of the few people who do. Shit, I barely know what they’re doing down there half the time, seems like. Don’t get down there too often these days. Anyway, it’s all very hush-hush. People who need a code to get in have them, and I’ve been told I’m not even supposed to share who all needs a code.”

“By whom, if I may ask? Isn’t that sort of recommendation basically my job?”

“By people who outrank you, Billy boy. Now leave it be. You’ll find out what’s up on 7 when you need to, if you need to, and not before.”

“Understood, sir.” Man, Jenna rubbed off on you fast. Next you’ll be giving the man a sensual massage. “Is there anything else I do need to know?”

“There is one other thing. And it’s a doozy, so I hope you’re sitting down.”

You look down at your seat. “Um, yep.”

“Good. Now come over here.” He rises and walks over to the counter.

“Do I stand up…?”

“No, genius, scuff up the marble tile dragging yourself over. Come on, buddy, don’t squander my affection with stupid questions.”

You nod and join him. Your eyes are drawn to the window behind the counter. For some reason, it feels like the kind of view where a self-important dude like King makes a sweeping gesture and some generalization about mankind or the nature of the world.

“So this is how you make the perfect pineapple smoothie,” he begins.

---

Back home that night, with Mo curled up across the entire sofa, you settle onto the floor in front of it and admit privately that his recipe does make a damn fine smoothie. And you don’t even love pineapple.

When you retire to your bed that night, it isn’t with thoughts of CEO tutelage; the ever-more intriguing mysteries of 7; nor even a pair of soft, pillowy tits wrapped around your head as one of the hottest women you’ve ever met gives you pleasure the likes of which you’ve never before experienced with your dick still in your pants.

It’s the junior VP of marketing, Amy Marchiano, and her tawdry little porn habit.

---

Decision time! Voting takes place for patrons ($10+) at https://www.patreon.com/icebear. Results will continue to be posted here for free, though, so no pressure.

Your choices:

• Be direct with Amy and ask her wtf. (Though maybe avoid mentioning your real reason for swinging by her office that night.)
• Be sneaky. It’s your job to test the security of corporate secrets, so see if you can’t put those skills to use.
• Be devious. Find an excuse to interact with her, then see if you can’t find a way to manipulate her into revealing something.
• Be a man. Ignore your feelings. Disregard your shame and anxiety.